In the thirty-four years which had passed, her role and responsibility had increased substantially and she had been involved in some of the most important and prestigious coups engineered by the British intelligence community.
In 1793 she had become unofficially attached to the newly formed Alien Office. The organisation had been created in the wake of the Aliens Act, which had been passed earlier that same year to help control the ever-increasing influx of French refugees and suspected revolutionaries entering England in the aftermath of the French Revolution. Although under the control of the Home Office in reality its remit was much wider, including the surveillance of foreign persons of interest, home and abroad, and general intelligence gathering.
The first department head, or Superintendent, of the Alien Office was William Huskisson, who, prior to assuming this position, had been private secretary to Lord Gower. Although unprepossessing in appearance, Harriet warmed to him, having found this former member of the 1789 club to be highly intelligent, fluent in French and a true gentleman who always showed her the proper politesse. In July 1794, however, he was succeeded by William Wickham, who immediately created controversy by flouting the rules regarding employment of foreign nationals and indulging in nepotism by employing many of his wife’s relations. Nevertheless, during his tenure the organisation completely outgrew its original remit and expanded into what amounted to a fully fledged intelligence-gathering agency, complete with a vast network of agents, controllers and informers spread throughout the continent and beyond. But these developments only reflected the nature of the period. These were dangerous times, as not only was the threat of invasion by Napoleon a constant fear, so was the possibility of an Irish rebellion. Spurred on by the successes in America and France, the Irish wanted their own revolution in order to achieve independence from the British Government, and were prepared to take up arms to achieve it.
In recent years the Irish had attempted an uprising twice, but on both occasions fortuitous circumstances had conspired to foil their attempts. The most recent, a plot by a group of United Irishmen in Dublin under the leadership of Robert Emmet, the previous year had been quelled, mainly by the emergence not long beforehand of an informant. As well as providing valuable information regarding numbers of men, arms and other details, he had been instrumental in helping them blow up one of Emmet’s arms depots a week before the arranged uprising. Emmet had stood trial and been executed later that year, although not before he had made a stirring speech in the dock. Lady Harriet had been against his death sentence and voiced her opinion as such, knowing his death would more than likely arouse sympathy for the Irish cause and make Emmet a martyr.
By the time of these events though, Wickham was no longer Superintendent of the Alien Office and although Harriet had no real opinion of his successor, she had come to dislike the new department head. He was a former military officer who did not suffer fools gladly. Although she was not beholden to him, or the organisation in general, she was nevertheless engaged in work of national importance and wished to be treated with the respect she felt her experience and position deserved. She had requested a meeting with him at the Avon Street office, but at the last moment the venue was changed and Lady Harriet found herself in a carriage being taken out of Bath. She was taken to a large mansion house located on the city’s southern outskirts and escorted into one of the large rooms. Here she was requested to sit down. A few moments later, a door opened and in walked the man she knew only by his codename: Janus.
‘So what is it so important that you wanted me to re-route my journey to London through Bath?’
‘There have been certain developments here,’ replied Lady Harriet, ‘in regard to the Irish situation.’
‘Not another informant murdered?’
‘No! That was unforeseeable. His identity was unwittingly revealed. I am still trying to find out how it happened.’
‘So what are these “developments”?’
‘It is Lockhart.’
Janus sighed heavily. ‘Go on,’ he said.
‘He has established a romantic attachment to my niece, Mary.’
‘Yes, I know that, but I thought you had the situation under control.’
‘I did, but it seems he has now developed a conscience and no longer wants to be of service to us, at least not in regard to any part which might jeopardise his relationship with my niece.’
‘This is outrageous. He cannot be allowed to dictate what he does or does not want to do for us. You were the one who convinced me of his importance in this operation.’
‘Do you think I am not fully aware of that?’
‘I should never have agreed to the reprieving of his execution. He should have swung just like Emmet. I warned you he was unreliable. If anything goes wrong, it is my career at stake. You assured me his co-operation would not be in doubt.’
‘I still believe it to be true.’
‘From what you have said, it is clearly not. So what have you told him?’
‘I informed him that he must continue to be part of our operation until October. By then we will know if the Irish have planned anything for the anniversary of Emmet’s death and if they have, we will have dealt with it. After that, I have said he is free to marry my niece, but they must move abroad.’
‘I always said you were skating on thin ice employing that jumped-up little philanderer. I do not like this situation in the slightest.’
‘He has assured me the attachment is genuine.’
‘And you believe him?’
‘No, but I want him to believe that I do.’
‘So what is your plan?’
‘When October arrives, and any revolt has been suppressed, I will deal with him in my own way. I just need your approval.’
‘Gladly, but remember, if anything goes wrong not only can we say goodbye to our jobs and reputation, but our liberty as well.’
Harriet nodded.
‘We have enough trouble on our plate with the French. I am sure I do not have to remind you of the importance of Bath remaining in our hands in the event of an Irish rebellion. A recent official report states at least two reasons why it is probably the most strategic city in England, outside London, for the Irish. You have read the report I assume?’
‘I originated it and there are three reasons: the percentage of Irish in the city willing to rise up to support any rebellion represents a tangible threat; it is a strategic location between Bristol and London; and the fact Malone has sent his right-hand man here on so many occasions, including giving him responsibility for employing Wicks to murder our previous informant, Malone’s own brother, points to the fact that he realises the importance of Bath and no doubt has something big planned for it.’
‘So where are you regarding finding a replacement for the informant?’
‘We are currently targeting the right-hand man, the Scarred Man. There are several facts in our favour. He is English and he is also wanted for murder …’
‘What did you call him?’
‘The Scarred Man. At least that is what my nephew has named him. As we do not know his real name I thought it was as suitable as any other.’
‘Your nephew? What has he to do with this matter?’
‘He was the one who commissioned the portrait, you may remember, which the office has duplicated for our agents in the field.’
‘Remind me why he did that?’
‘The Scarred Man was one of those responsible for his father’s murder twenty years ago. He is trying to track him down and bring him to justice.’
‘So is your nephew a threat to this operation?’
‘I am doing all I can to make certain he is not. As the Scarred Man is now in the area, I have engaged my nephew to investigate a straightforward murder-of-passion case, although he has been led to believe it is French retribution for our failed attempt on Bonaparte.’
‘Do not even mention that fiasco. First Moreau, Georges and Pigrau all arrested and now the Duke of Enghien murdered.
’
‘What?’ exclaimed Lady Harriet.
‘Have you not heard? The Duke of Enghien was arrested last week and before anything could be done he was executed on the orders of Napoleon himself.’
‘He cannot do that. The duke is a member of the reigning House of Bourbon and a legitimate heir to the French throne.’
‘Well, as shocking as it is, he has done it, so there can be no more failures. Bring this Lockhart to heel. Anyone who threatens the success of this operation must be removed. Anyone! And if you are unable or unwilling to do so, then I will engage the service of someone who will.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
At seven forty-five Swann left the house in Great Pulteney Street and made his way towards the city centre. He was on his way to meet Fitzpatrick at the club where the magistrate was a member.
On Swann’s return to his consulting rooms in Gay Street that afternoon, there had been a message waiting for him. It was from Fitzpatrick, requesting to see him on a certain urgent matter. After walking the short distance between their two buildings and entering Fitzpatrick’s office, he had been invited to the club. The reason for the invitation concerned the nephew of Fitzpatrick’s acquaintance, who was also a member, and the night before had cajoled the magistrate into extending an invitation to Swann. The prospective Member of Parliament wanted the opportunity to personally persuade Swann to take on his case.
Swann had been invited to the club several times before, although for his own reasons had always declined. But this time, as Fitzpatrick intimated it would be doing him a great service, as he would feel he had at least discharged his obligation to his acquaintance even if he still refused the case, Swann agreed.
They had arranged to meet outside the club entrance at eight o’clock and Fitzpatrick had given Swann a card with the address on it. He had then returned home for an evening meal with Mary, before she left for the theatre with Lockhart. Swann had spent the intervening period making notes on the case he was involved in for Lady Harriet. He had to admit, however, he was no closer to finding out who the murderer might be than he was yesterday morning, when he accepted the assignment. His gut instinct told him that neither Tom the gardener nor Bolton, the girl’s ‘protector’, were guilty and unless there was someone else, not yet identified, it may have been, after all, a tragic crime passionnel.
As Swann walked across Pulteney Bridge he slipped his hand inside one of his pockets to retrieve the card with the club’s address. Instead, he brought out a torn piece of paper. On it he saw the scribbled words ‘Circle of Sappho’. In the top right-hand corner was a date, printed, as one would see in a diary or journal. It was yesterday’s date; 26th March. He turned over the paper, but there was nothing else on it. The jagged edge down the left side, however, suggested it had been hastily ripped from a diary. Instinctively he turned around, as if expecting to see someone, but there was no one, or at least no one that had been close enough to put a note on his person.
As Swann continued on his way he recalled the events of the day. And then he remembered. Of course! He now thought back to the girl at the school who had fallen into him. What was her name … Anne? Yes, that was it. She had been the best friend of the dead girl. But what was the Circle of Sappho, was it an organisation the victims belonged to? There certainly had to be some connection, he thought, as the girl and the teacher both had a copy of the Greek poetess’ poetry in their possession.
By now Swann had arrived at the club and saw Fitzpatrick waiting outside for him. He would see what more information he could find regarding Sappho on his return home that evening and would also enquire about it the following day, when he spoke to the dead teacher’s sister on his visit to Frome.
‘Thank you once again for accepting my invitation,’ said Fitzpatrick on seeing Swann. ‘The person we discussed is already here and was pleased when I told him you had agreed to come tonight.’
Fitzpatrick knocked on the door of the exclusive club, in a manner presumed by Swann to be a secret code, and after the magistrate’s identity had been verified by a man looking out from behind a small peep-hole embedded in the door, it opened and the two men entered.
‘There are several rooms,’ said Fitzpatrick as they stepped into the main foyer, ‘dependent on how one likes to spend their evening; whether that is cards, dice, political discussion or drinking.’
They ascended a staircase leading to one of the bars, and on reaching the top a familiar face appeared from a doorway beside them. It was the magistrate Kirby.
‘Fitzpatrick, it is unusual to see you here two nights in a row and it is of course unusual to see your companion here at any time, given he is not a member!’
‘Swann has every right to be here tonight, he is my guest,’ replied Fitzpatrick.
‘Do not act so defensive my friend,’ said Kirby, good-spiritedly. ‘I was merely enacting some humour, although granted it was at your expense. Anyway, I am now off to the faro table, gentlemen. I would invite you to join me but I would not wish to lead our Mr Swann into temptation.’
Fitzpatrick and Swann watched Kirby as he strolled purposefully down one of the corridors which lead off from the stairs. Halfway along he stopped and opened a door. A cloud of cigar smoke emerged from the room and Kirby vanished into it. Swann frowned at Kirby’s ‘temptation’ remark. Was it just a chance remark or did he know about Swann’s history? Either way, he had no time to contemplate it as an unfamiliar gentleman was now standing next to him with his hand extended.
‘Swann, this is Charles Moorhouse, the gentleman I have mentioned to you.’
‘Ah, yes,’ replied Swann, as he gripped the man’s hand and shook it. ‘Pleased to make your acquaintance.’
The aspiring Member of Parliament stood six feet five inches tall, had soft, young-looking features, which belied his age, being as he was half a dozen years or so younger than Swann.
‘Thank you for coming tonight,’ said Charles. ‘I have reserved a quiet room where we can discuss the matter in private.’ He turned to Fitzpatrick. ‘I hope you will not be offended, Fitzpatrick, if I request Mr Swann’s presence alone.’
‘Not at all,’ replied the magistrate, ‘if Swann is agreeable to it?’
Swann nodded to confirm that he was.
‘Splendid,’ said Charles. At that, he ushered Swann along one of the corridors and followed after him. Fitzpatrick turned and headed towards the bar.
They entered the room put aside for them. Inside were several Chesterfield armchairs and two four-seat sofas, upholstered in dark-red leather. Two of the armchairs were placed opposite one another, either side of a crackling fireplace. The politician gestured for Swann to sit down in one of them, then walked over to a cabinet and opened its glass door.
‘Fitzpatrick informs me you are a wine connoisseur, Mr Swann.’
‘I would not venture to call myself that, only …’
‘Indeed, indeed. There is an appealing ’87 Château d’Yquem, if that would be agreeable?’
‘Most agreeable,’ replied Swann.
Charles brought two crystal glasses back with him, along with the bottle, and poured a substantial measure into each. He offered a glass to Swann and put the other on the table between them. He then seated himself opposite.
‘If you do not mind, Mr Swann, I will come straight to the point as to why I requested your presence here. How much do you know of my predicament?’
‘Fitzpatrick has prevailed upon me the briefest of details. I understand that you are at present the victim of blackmail.’
Charles looked suitably forlorn.
‘I will not try to condone my behaviour, or deny my indiscretion, Mr Swann. I know I have acted wrongly, but there is more at stake than my own reputation and career. If permissible, I wish to outline the reasons by which I feel you should reconsider your decision not to take on this case.’
Swann gestured for Charles to continue.
‘This country of ours, England, is, I fear, standing on the precipice of dis
aster and faces one of the greatest challenges in its history. The last thirty years have seen monumental events – America’s independence, the French Revolution and subsequent Reign of Terror, the ascendancy to power of Napoleon and the Irish uprisings – which have all severely chipped away at the very foundations of our nation. Everywhere one looks there is unrest, instability and potential conflict. Why, at this very moment Napoleon sits across the Channel waiting for spring to arrive, so he can ‘jump the ditch’, as he refers to it, and eradicate this island’s freedom for ever. Whilst on our other coast, the Irish are across their own sea, waiting for any opportunity to exact revenge on us for what they perceive as unjust rule. And all the while these unsavoury and menacing forces gather themselves together and grow stronger on a daily basis, we have, for want of a better phrase, a dithering prime minister who refuses to embrace the need to equip ourselves realistically to rise up to face this challenge.’
Charles stopped talking momentarily in order to gauge Swann’s reaction thus far. He raised his glass to his lips and swallowed a mouthful of the d’Yquem.
‘Perhaps I am being too passionate but I believe in this country, Mr Swann, and I believe in its continued right to be free. I also firmly believe in the duty of government to serve the people and I believe this is not happening at present. Addington needs to be replaced as soon as possible and the only man suitable for the job is Pitt. With the King suffering another bout of illness, we have to be as secure as possible.’
‘Why not Grenville or Fox to replace the prime minister?’ asked Swann.
‘They have too many personal issues between them to be able to ever lead this country. And besides, Fox is an advocate of peace on any terms. He has been against this war with France since Napoleon assumed power. “Is peace a rash system?” are his very words. “Must the bowels of Great Britain be torn out – her best blood be spilt – her treasure wasted?” We need war, Mr Swann, and our party can deliver it, but not with Addington at its head. We need Pitt to lead the country once more and behind him a strong, supportive government. This is where I believe I can make a contribution. As Fitzpatrick may have informed you, my intention is to become a Member of Parliament in a forthcoming by-election. Are you a supporter of the Conservative Party, Mr Swann? No, do not answer. I do not wish to know another man’s leanings, especially when they may be in direct opposition to my own. I am a Tory, Mr Swann, as my father and his father before him. I believe I have a substantial career in politics in front of me and I know I can offer much to this country and her people. The fact of the matter is, Mr Swann, there are people depending on me to achieve certain goals in my political ambitions and this disagreeable matter might put an end to them.’
The Circle of Sappho Page 9